Retribution: Green Fields #11

by Adrienne Lecter

  I didn’t miss the latent horror crossing his face before he schooled his expression, which was yet another layer of confirmation. Too much, actually, and I turned away before more grievance could make me say or do something I would later regret. Yet Richards held me back, physically reaching out to touch my arm.

  “Lewis, we are not your enemies,” he insisted, withdrawing his fingers when he felt me tense. I stared at where he had touched me, then at his face, trying to gauge whether his expression of openness was real or fake.

  “But you were the ones who started this,” I ground out before I could stop myself. “You were there, in Colorado. You were there when your faction promised to take care of all the soldiers that had already turned into zombies in everything but the need to eat flesh.” And my, didn’t that have a sour connotation to it now. “Why are there still experiments going on? Why did hundreds—no, thousands!—of scavengers get infected and ultimately doomed to the very same fate? And don’t you dare lie to my face and tell me this is the first you’ve heard of this. Is this why we went to France? So you could let the issues with the pesky scavengers take care of themselves? Is this what Emily Raynor has been cooking up in her lab for the past two and a half years?”

  The storm howling around the warehouse was quite the dramatic backdrop for my accusations, but Red remained stoically calm.

  “You mean because of what Hamilton said yesterday? That he’d been tasked to drop off the weaponized virus version here?” I nodded—no hesitation there. Richards looked doubtful, as if he was debating what to make of that himself, but ended up shaking his head. “Why don’t we ask him, rather than throw accusations out there where they can easily get people killed?” When he saw my surprise, he laughed, and it wasn’t a nice sound. “Don’t you think that all of us are very aware that this camp is a powder keg, maybe more so now than before? The last thing we need is you of all people giving those drugged-up assholes even more of a reason to slaughter us on a whim!”

  That accusation—and the mentioned consequences—made me draw up short, and it took me a few moments to work through my confusion. “You’re serious?”

  Under different circumstances, the exasperated look he shot me might have made me cheer, but today wasn’t the best day to finally wear his patience thin. “Deadly.”

  It was then that I realized the reason why Richards continued to plaster himself to me—thankfully at more of a physical distance than yesterday, but still—was less because of ulterior motives, and more so the simple reassurance that came with my reputation. I tried to remember where I’d seen the soldiers mill around since Nate had officially retired the previous leadership, but couldn’t remember. Somewhere with the Silo marines—who hadn’t ventured far from our established headquarters, either, come to think of it. Only Harris and his scavengers had left the Citadel to roam everywhere and celebrate.

  Huh. Maybe I should have paid more attention to this before.

  Richards cleared his throat, actually looking a little taken aback, as if his brief outburst had left him thoroughly embarrassed. “Look,” I started, not quite sure what to say. It fleetingly occurred to me that, maybe, he was trying this angle to get under my skin. Damn, but I hated that things had to be so complicated! “I appreciate that, for the second time, you and your men have risked your lives to help me rescue my husband. And yes, just between you and me, I do consider you as one of my friends, and one of the people I might confide in. Fact is, I’m having a really hard time hanging on to my sanity right now, and the last thing I need is this constant second-guessing. So let’s not read too much into anything until we know more for sure, okay? We still have countless buildings to search and people to beat into submission so they’ll share their nefarious plans with us. Then we’ll have the next powwow, and we’ll take it from there. Sounds good?”

  He nodded without being an asshole and let me hang for the few minutes I probably deserved to squirm under his calm gaze. “Sounds good,” he echoed. “Just, maybe, only accuse us of the things we’re actually responsible for. Not the ghosts that you’ve already exorcised.”

  I couldn’t quite suppress tensing up at the memory of where I’d first had to deal with that mind-destroying shit—Taggard’s white-tiled cell. “Aren’t you the least bit curious who is behind all this?” I asked as I turned toward the gate, only now realizing how dark it had gotten outside.

  “Of course I am,” Richards offered with a tight smile that was more of a grimace. “Those were my soldiers who had to take the first hit. I knew nine good men who lost their minds to that faulty serum. Nine good men who had defended this country against the undead, and helped rebuild without complaint or a single day of leave since the shit hit the fan. And all just because they believed there was an easy solution to the constant danger they had been in the entire time. And I lost several times that number to scavenger raids since. Do you think I’m a saint who doesn’t feel the itch to gun down every crazy-eyed, war-painted idiot who still believes they are fighting for their freedom when, actually, they are the ones who keep terrorizing the country? I’m not. But what I have learned is that, all too often, hardliners like Hamilton only exacerbate the situation, and without compromise, we’ll all be dead in no time. And as you know, when you bite it, it doesn’t matter what color your uniform was or whether you ever wore one in the first place.”

  I hadn’t expected quite such a speech, but for the first time since I’d gotten to know him better at the base in Canada and our journey to France, I felt like I was talking to the man, not the officer. Again, the nasty voice at the back of my mind whispered that it was entirely possible this was just his latest strategy to play me, but I didn’t believe it. He had little to lose and nothing to gain—except maybe make me realize I really needed to watch what I was saying and who was listening to it. Realizing that with Harris we had a strong ally who could not only get us into the camp but also help us overthrow Cortez and his people had made me feel kind of invincible, but I knew that was a dangerous liaison at best, and might come with them turning on us next at worst. I loathed Hamilton with a vengeance, and still didn’t trust the soldiers as much as their actions around me maybe deserved, but they were likely the more reliable compromise. Add to that both factions of marines—who would drop away as soon as the army left—and that latent sense of security suddenly turned into the opposite. Just maybe I should have brought more than three people on my little quest to find out more about the drug operations—and checked in with Pia to let her know what I was doing.

  I wouldn’t be making that mistake again in the future.

  Richards seemed satisfied with the following silence as we rejoined his men and started making our way back through the storm, the rain feeling even worse, if that was possible. We were getting close to the Citadel entrance when something occurred to me. Turning to Richards, I asked, “Exactly where do you know Zilinsky from?”

  I got a borderline sardonic smile for my trouble. “You mean, besides her being the XO of the biggest pain in our ass since the shit hit the fan?”

  I nodded. “Naturally. As much as I like to delude myself into thinking everyone believes that I’ve been running the show, we all know it isn’t so.”

  Richards waited until we were inside, shaking himself like a dog before responding. “You do realize that, medical personnel aside, only three people have ever been inoculated with the serum who haven’t been active service members of the army?”

  I was about to negate that but realized I already knew the answer. “You mean me, Zilinsky, and Romanoff?”

  I got a curt if satisfied nod. “I’m sure that for none of you, any records exist, but people talk, and the more horrifying the story, the more embellished it becomes. I presume you know their version of it?”

  “Actually, I only know bits and pieces,” I offered, feeling vaguely stupid. But one did not simply walk up to the Ice Queen and ask her why everyone and their mother perked up when her name was mentioned. “She told me that she’d b
een lost, and Miller helped her regain her sanity.” Which was oversimplifying it, but as close to the truth as I could get without spilling what little I knew of her past—which I would also take to my grave.

  It spoke volumes that both Hill and Cole were completely silent, listening with rapt attention. Richards snorted, without a doubt bemused at his men’s reaction—or my statement. “Let’s put it this way: not even the black ops branch of the army makes a habit of working with mercenaries that have rap sheets that make any manila folder trying to contain them burst at the seams. Unless said mercenaries can give the best of our best a run for their money, and come out laughing at how incompetent and nice we are. The story goes that not just one of our strike companies but also the search-and-rescue company sent after them got bogged down in a situation where both captains knew they and all their men were toast—only to be sprung by a small strike force whose only reason to be there was because they hadn’t been paid for their last contract and were now demanding their price in blood. The reason why the two surviving members agreed to work for us was because they were promised more of the same, over and over again—and the shot that would allow them to keep raining destructions on their enemies even beyond the grave. Sounds familiar?”

  I was tempted to shake my head but refrained. In a sense, I could see why Pia hadn’t been lying when she’d told me that Nate had “saved” her when he’d given her a new purpose in life. Also, the fact that she didn’t want her name right next to his on our scavenger company sheet took on an entirely new meaning.

  Also, the fact that she’d managed to get five factions to the meeting to plan the assault on the camp, with only Dispatch backing out, made a lot more sense now. And that nobody had dared attack the California settlement, either. Sleeping dogs, and all that shit.

  Suddenly, the idea that the scavengers would turn on us and shiv us in our sleep bothered me a lot less than a few minutes ago.

  “Well, at least I keep interesting company,” I muttered, ignoring the incredulous look Richards shot my way.

  “Is that all you’re going to say to that?” he called after me, quickly catching up once more.

  “What else is there to say?” I asked, grinning. “You had me worried there for a bit, but I think I’ll sleep soundly tonight.” Which, I was afraid, was likely still wishful thinking, but a girl could hope! When Richards kept staring at me, I snorted. “You know, ever since Hamilton told us that Decker was still alive, I was afraid he would come after us because he wanted his favorite lap dog back at his side. Now I’m starting to think that everything that happened was a preemptive strike to prevent said lap dog’s attack dog from tearing out anyone’s throat who might even glance the wrong way at said lap dog.”

  “You do realize that she’s just one woman, right? And not getting any younger.”

  It was easy to shrug off Red’s comment. “So am I. And just consider how much of a nuisance I’ve become for you, and without even trying really hard.”

  Richards didn’t have a rebuke for that, but I heard Cole mutter a succinct, “At least it’s not going to be boring around here any time soon.” Truer words had seldom been spoken.

  Chapter 4

  The storm continued to rage throughout the night, but much to my surprise broke the following morning. By midday, the rain eased up and let a few tentative rays of sunshine through the endless cloud cover. By afternoon, the world had turned into a humid, hot nightmare again, the few hours of respite between the extremes not enough to make me feel alive. The shakes had eased up, but that only made it easier for me to concentrate on how drained and miserable I felt. I’d figured the withdrawal would run a similar course as the first time, when I’d escaped and made my way to the settlement where Richards and his men had picked me up; reality was a long shot from that, the mental impact far stronger this time.

  We’d wasted another hour with Cindy, but I’d held myself in the background, listening only while Hamilton did the talking—and surprisingly little punching. Realizing that what we’d done to her had broken her spirit only added to my pervasive sense of malaise, and I was almost glad for Bucky’s presence as that meant I couldn’t own up to this and let myself fall into that black, black hole at the bottom of my soul. Nate and Hamilton also talked to a few of the less insane former prisoners, but there was woefully little to gain from that in terms of information. Scott had in the meantime finished his maps, and the marines and soldiers together had compiled a list of possible assets we could use for whatever we decided to do going forward. My first impression of how the camp had grown to this size and managed to sustain itself—strength in numbers and a reign of terror that coexisted in a climate of utter incompetence—seemed to be truer than I was comfortable with. The scavengers turned out to be the camp’s lifeblood, trading everything needed for drugs, food, and short-lived entertainment—and judging from the half-empty stores, they hadn’t managed well on the food side of things. In hindsight, our triumphant victory turned somewhat stale when it became obvious that it had worked mainly because nobody before us had tried in earnest to overthrow the leadership—and the fact that not just the Chemist and most of his team, but also several of Cortez’s lieutenants had disappeared just before the storm hit with us riding shotgun made it even worse. Ten people sneaking inside under the cover of darkness might have been enough to end the constant misery of a shitload of prisoners. In what used to be Cortez’s quarters, the Ice Queen found a ledger with names—or what went for them, seeing as Cortez hadn’t known the real identity of most of his victims—of arena fighters that had perished. Nobody had counted them, but the fact that the list spanned pages upon pages and didn’t even factor in the women who had died in the kennels made me really sorry that Nate had killed that asshole so quickly. Those very numbers also made me suspect that the arena fighters hadn’t been the only ones who had been fed a constant diet of disreputable protein sources. Considering that the livestock rounded up barely accounted for what the scavengers must be consuming in a few weeks, I didn’t want to know what had sustained the farm workers.

  With room for over fifty people needed so everyone could be part of our big planning session, the arena turned out to be the most suitable place for that. I couldn’t help but cringe inside as I strode through the gates behind Nate and Hamilton, both outwardly calm but, without a doubt, not so on the inside. Hamilton had turned up later this morning with no sign of the women he’d vacated the premises with, but I presumed he hadn’t eaten them. I hadn’t slept much that night but as far as I could tell that was still a lot more rest than Nate had gotten, yet far be it from him to ease up on the pressure he put on himself to keep going. Our entire assault group was present except for a handful of people set up to guard the entrances, including the scavengers and a few others that Harris insisted should be here. Already, he seemed to have started weeding out the people he felt he wanted to work with, but his enthusiasm about running the show had markedly cooled off when they’d realized that food was about to run out, and everyone who had any interest in synthesizing more drugs was either dead or gone. Frankly, I was surprised that nobody had pulled me aside yet to take over operations, or at least train a replacement, but then people seemed to associate me more with being Nate’s wife than a scientist. To say the arena felt just as ready to blow up as during the fight where I’d watched Nate tear out and eat that guy’s heart was an understatement.

  When the Ice Queen gave him a brief nod, Nate stepped into the middle of the loose circle we had gathered in, more or less split into groups according to our affiliations. “Thank you all for joining me here,” he called out, doing a quick turn and stopping with his back to where Pia and I were standing side by side with Hamilton lurking close by. “Now that the storm has blown over, it is time for action.” No cheers rose, but particularly from the scavengers I got a weird sense of excitement. “We’ve had time aplenty to gather what little knowledge there was to glean from the few people who used to be in command who didn’t run away lik
e the cowards they are, or died with little more backbone than that.” I didn’t miss the grim look of satisfaction on his face—well-earned, but also disconcerting. A round of cheers went up, but died down as soon as Nate went on talking.

  “What we need to know now is simple: who was responsible for this? Where did those cowards that fled run to? And what are the consequences that we need to deal with?” He half-turned so that he was facing Harris and his fellow scavengers. “We said we were happy to let you continue to run the show here if that’s what you want. We will need to take some of the ammo with us that we found and a limited amount of food, but the rest is yours to do with as you see fit. I hope you are still happy with that arrangement?”

  A few of the scavengers looked less enthusiastic, but Harris inclined his head with befitting gravitas for a newly-minted mayor. “We will do our best to keep the operations running. It’s anyone’s guess whether we’ll manage to get enough food from the fields to make it through the winter, but we won’t abandon those poor, lost souls to their fate.” He must have been referring to the workers. “You can count on us.”

  That last bit surprised me; not so Nate, who accepted it with a nod. “The first good news in a long time,” he offered—and turned back to the gathering at large. “And likely, it will remain the only good news. Killing Cortez was necessary—and will forever be the kill I will feel the least conflicted about in my entire life—but it solves little, and changes nothing. As we have had to discover, that this camp exists and how it treated some of its denizens is the least of our problems.” I was surprised when he turned to me next. “Bree, will you please explain to Harris and his people what exactly has been done to them?”